


of laundry baskets and underpants

by jilliancares



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crack, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, like crack if it was on crack, no seriously just the crackiest crack you've ever read, vine references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jilliancares/pseuds/jilliancares
Summary: The crackiest fic you will ever read wherein the lions are laundry baskets, Voltron is a giant pair of underpants, and Lance says an actual keysmash.





	of laundry baskets and underpants

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys!!! this fic was written for the klance reverse bang, accompanied by some hilarious art which i'll link to here [when it's posted]! i really hope you enjoy! this is the first time i've ever attempted to write some serious crack so i hope it makes you laugh asjlkfa

It didn’t really make sense to Lance how a laundry basket could fly like, a million miles an hour through outer space without him freezing to death or choking on the lack of oxygen, but it also didn’t really make sense for his magical mode of transportation to be a laundry basket in the first place, so he kind of lived by the motto of never questioning anything ever.

He could still remember that fateful day in the desert when they’d stumbled across the blue basket. It’d responded to Lance, and from there he’d known his next course of action would be to climb into the basket. And that’s exactly what he’d done — he’d folded himself into the small space, the sides of the basket kind of digging into his knees, and felt at home.

“What are you doing?” Pidge had demanded incredulously. They’d all been expecting something maybe a bit more impressive, what with Keith saying he’d felt some kind of massive energy out in the desert, and everyone besides Lance had looked disappointed in finding a measly laundry basket.

“A kickflip,” Lance had answered, and then he’d done just that. The laundry basket kind of had a mind of its own. It was clearly magical and also awesome, and it was there that their grand adventure had truly started. Everyone had clung to Lance and the edges of his basket as it’d suddenly shot into space, toting them away from Earth. It had just been one of those days where Lance had thought, _well, this might as well happen._

And it had happened. It had brought them to the castle-ship they still lived in today. Months and months had passed since they’d found the blue basket and now living in the castle and flying around in super tight magical laundry baskets was the norm. They were the paladins of Voltron, defenders of the universe. No biggie.

But even as the infamous, widely loved heroes of the free people, they still had to face everyday teenager problems. Like one moment they were running for their lives from an army of murderous, glorified purple cats, and the next Lance was banging his head against a wall because he had a crush so big it felt like there was an elephant squeezed inside his chest. _Get the fuck out of there!!!_  Lance sometimes thought at the elephant, but it was super stubborn and stayed right where it was. Asshole.

Despite the mammoth-sized crush Lance had on Keith (upgraded from elephant to mammoth because come on, this thing was growing every second), he figured it was best to ignore his feelings for the rest of eternity and hope that this decision never came back to bite him in the butt. It seemed reasonable and smart, even, to just ignore the one thing his thoughts were constantly drifting towards. Who even needs a crush, right? Pshhh. Not Lance, that’s who.

A pretty good distraction from Lance’s crush was doing things that were distracting. Examples of this included: bugging Pidge until she tried to kill him with her latest invention, begging Hunk to make him food that wasn’t the consistency of goo, and flirting with Allura to try to coral his inexplicable crush on Keith back into a manageable place. Because come on, who was he to have a crush on a guy with a mullet? That was just tasteless, at this point.

Lance was broken out of his thoughts about Keith — he really couldn’t get that asshole out of his head — when the alarms started blaring.

“Paladins!” Allura called, her voice reverberating throughout the entire castle. “We are under attack! Get to your baskets!”

Lance, who was carrying Blue in his arms, currently full of all his dirty laundry, groaned. Still, he sprinted towards the control room. Maybe he’d have enough time to detour towards the laundry room before flying out into space.

When Lance burst into the control room, everyone else was gathered, prepared to get to their basket’s hangars and form Voltron. Lance’s late arrival drew everyone’s attention, and he stood there for a moment, panting.

“Can I do my laundry first?” he pleaded.

“No time!” Allura shouted.

With a pout, Lance upended his laundry basket directly onto the floor — it’d always been his dream for his teammates to see his dirty underwear — and hopped inside it. It was funny how sometimes he carried the basket and other times it carried him.

Now, the basket was hovering in the air, and everyone dispersed into their own hangars. Lance urged Blue towards her own hangar and exit, clinging to the sides as they shot through the castle and then out into space. Luckily, he’d been dressed in his paladin armor this entire time, so there was no need for him to change.

“All right team, the Galra conveniently found us —”

“Classic Galra,” Pidge interjected.

“— so now let’s destroy them like always,” Shiro said encouragingly, and the rest of them took turns saying things like, “got it!” and “let’s do this!” and in Pidge’s case, “You either kill yourself or get killed. Whatchu gonna do.”

For the beginning of the fight, they stayed as their individual baskets, yet to form Voltron. When they’d first started fighting, back when they were learning how to be defenders of the universe and all that, it’d been terrifying. After all, they were all just seated in laundry baskets that offered no protection to them whatsoever and were a million times smaller than every spaceship they battled, but over time they’d gotten over that fear because none of them had ever died thus far, so.

Luckily, their laundry baskets also shot lasers and cool junk like that, so they weren’t completely defenseless out there. Blowing up Galra ships was as regular to them as eating breakfast.

And of course blowing up ships was fun, but sometimes they needed a bit of background music, so Lance took care of that himself. “My neck, my back,” he sang, blowing up ships on-beat. “Lick my pu —”

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro reprimanded, and Lance sighed regretfully. He never got to finish the chorus.

Without any other way to further the plot, they decided to form Voltron. The cool thing about their laundry baskets was the fact that they combined to make something that wasn’t a laundry basket. All together, they formed probably the exact opposite of whatever you’re thinking — a giant pair of underpants. Like — massive. Legend said that it was Zarkon’s underwear and that’s why he wanted to destroy Voltron so badly, but Lance highly doubted this. There was no way Zarkon could fit into these pants.

And so they finished the battle as a pair of underpants. The five of them had to cling desperately onto the waistband because honestly this battle-machine had been poorly created and didn’t have any seats or anything. Sometimes one of them fell out and they had to go back for them. All it had was giant lasers and other weapons. Fire shot out of the leg holes when they wanted to move.

Anyway, giant underpants Voltron massacred the rest of the Galra forces who were attacking for some unknown reason and then disbanded and returned to the castle.

“You did it!” Allura cheered. “Hooray Voltron!”

“Thanks bitch,” Lance said, shooting her a pair of finger guns.

The team then unanimously left the control room in search of something fun to do. A big part of saving the universe was having downtime, because if the paladins of Voltron went crazy from stress or boredom there’d be no one left to save the universe.

Lance accidentally on purpose ended up in the main lounge after following Keith all the way there. It wasn’t his fault — his dinosaur-sized crush was not only a crush but also a magnet. And Keith was also a magnet. Lance was _pulled in_  by him, dammit!

And so they settled in the lounge, Keith sitting down on a chair and pulling out a book from somewhere while Lance flopped down on the couch with a sigh. Maybe one of these days his dramatics would draw Keith’s attention and Keith would see how good he looked all stretched out. Like, come on Keith. You want a piece of this.

But Keith did not look up. In fact, he didn’t acknowledge Lance in any way whatsoever, instead burying his nose in a book and continuing to be the most boringest person on the castle-ship. Why the ever loving fuck was _this_  the loser Lance was in love with?

As always, time passed. And Lance grew bored. And when Lance grew bored when Keith was around he had automatic entertainment, and so he bothered Keith — the perfect way to get your crushes’ attention and make them fall in love with you was to constantly annoy them, after all.

Anyway, Keith ended up getting butthurt and eventually they were standing chest to chest and arguing For Real. Keith got all jabby with his fingers. Lance didn’t like getting jabbed.

“I will bite off your finger,” Lance threatened, glaring at the finger now pointed in his face. Keith took a moment to look confused.

“You couldn’t bite off my finger,” he said.

“Could too,” Lance answered.

“It’s true,” Hunk put in, who’d apparently entered the room at some point unnoticed by both Lance and Keith. “Fingers are as easy to bite into as carrots.”

“There’s no way that’s true,” Keith argued.

Pidge, who’d also conveniently shown up to be able to contribute to the conversation, said, “We could easily test this hypothesis. Any volunteers?”

“For biting the finger or having the finger bitten?” Lance asked — an important distinction, really.

“Both.”

“All right. I CALL NOT HAVING MY FINGER BIT OFF. NO TAKE BACKSIES.”

In the end, Keith refused to volunteer to have his finger bitten off, so they remained at ends and the truth was never discovered. This was unfortunate because Lance wasn’t entirely opposed to having Keith’s finger in his mouth.

Now, the main problem about Lance thinking this was the fact that he didn’t just think it. At some point something in his brain got mixed up, some sort of lever got switched, and the _thoughts that are just for me_  got redirected to the _thoughts that I say out loud to everybody in the room._

Anyway. There they were, all standing in the lounge, Lance’s face steadily reaching the temperature of the actual sun as everyone stared at him in astonishment. Keith’s mouth was open, and Lance wanted to tell him to shut his mouth lest he catch flies, but he couldn’t really make himself do anything right then. All the systems in his brain were set to _PANIC_  which was also the same as _do nothing and freak out silently until something else happens._

Lance wasn’t sure how long it was until something else happened, only that his face was approximately a thousand degrees above normal by the time Pidge cleared her throat.

Instead of saying something that could in any way help Lance out of this situation, she said, “Ha. Gaaaayyy.”

Lance’s brain finally kicked back into action after being turned off and on again — the panacea of fixing things — and he spun around to face Pidge.

“First of all, homophobic,” Lance said, brandishing a finger at her as he counted on his hand.

Pidge scoffed. “I’m not homophobic. And you have to admit that you wanting to suck Keith’s fingers is kinda gay.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Lance said hastily. “Whoever said anything about sucking them!? I wouldn’t mind having them in my mouth _so I could then bite them off_. DUH.”

No one took this explanation seriously. Lance crossed them all off his best friends list. He also began planning their imminent murders. Like, couldn’t they just let a boy struggle under his planet-sized crush in peace??? _Thank you._

Everyone was just staring at Lance, though. Hunk’s face kind of said, _ya done fucked up, buddy_. Pidge’s was more like, _bahahahahha lmfaooooo lolol._  Lance would’ve translated Keith’s expression into words too but he was actually avoiding looking at him ever again, so. That would just have to wait. Forever.

Lance was wracking his brains trying to figure out how to move along from this awkward moment. Like, normally, he was pretty good at breezing past awkward moments with a good amount of shouting and flailing and distracting, but it seemed like everyone was determined to dwell on his latest fuck up.

Just then, proving that they hadn’t been forgotten about, Shiro and Allura walked into the room, followed by Coran for his brief cameo.

“What’s going on in here?” Coran asked, twirling his mustache and waggling his eyebrows, thus completing his cameo.

“Lance wants to suck Keith’s fingers,” Pidge said helpfully.

“I do NOT,” Lance wailed, to which no one paid him any attention.

“Is that a human tradition?” Allura questioned, and Lance groaned himself into the astral plane.

When Lance ran out of breath and had to stop groaning and start breathing again, though he strongly considered the not-breathing option so he could instead Die, he glanced at Keith. He couldn’t HELP IT. Magnets, remember!?!? MAGNETS.

Anyway, Keith: glanced at. Lance: doing the glancing. And, okay, alright, at this point it wasn’t a glance anymore. It was a stare. And Keith was turning his head and — FUCK, ABORT. LOOK AWAY, ABORT ABORT.

Lance’s brain, deciding it hated him, said, _nah fuck you bitch_  and he kept right on staring at Keith, who kept staring at him. All right this was totally creepy. Right? Why wasn’t anyone talking? Why was Lance allowed to monologue internally for this long? Why —

“Lance,” Shiro said (side note: _phew_ ), “maybe you should explain this finger-sucking thing.”

“I’m gonna kill myself,” Lance decided. Allura pointed a stern finger at him.

“No,” she said. Stellar therapist, ten outta ten. Stops suicidal teens everywhere.

“All right,” Lance conceded. “But I _am_  gonna run away now.”

His retreat was put to a stop by all his horrible friends, who blocked the exits. He slumped in on himself, considering pulling out his bayard and shooting them all in the legs.

“We can’t let this awkward tension continue,” Shiro decided. “You and Keith need to talk this out. In detail.”

Lance was ushered back across the room towards Keith, and they were staring at each other again. Lance decided he hated Keith. This was _his_  fault after all, for being so attractive and brave and adorable and great and —

“Lance,” Keith said, after clearing his throat. Lance’s attention was caught but he still didn’t want to say anything, still would rather hop in the blue basket and deposit himself into the sun, but.

“Keith,” he responded. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much.”

“Good talk.” Lance glanced towards the exit, but everyone was glaring at him, so Lance decided to turn back to Keith. “Sorry for saying I would bite off your finger.”

“It’s okay. You couldn’t, anyway.”

“Carrot,” Lance coughed under his breath as a reminder. “Anyway, I guess I said I wouldn’t mind having your finger in my mouth because I like you.”

Lance wasn’t sure why he said this. Like, he hadn’t even considered saying it. One second he’d been coughing the word “carrot” and thinking pretty highly of himself, and the next some evil force was wrenching the words right out of his mouth and placing them in Keith’s brain. Thanks a lot, evil force.

Keith blinked. Lance held his breath, attempting to pass out before he could see anyone’s reaction.

But then, before he grew light headed enough to collapse, Keith said, “Oh. I like you too.”

After gasping in a giant breath, Lance said, “FFJKDSFK.”

“How the hell did he say that out loud?” Pidge pondered. Her statement was barely heard over Hunk, however, who was going, “OOHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Meanwhile, Lance’s mind was spinning at like a billion miles per hour. He felt dizzy. He was going to pull a Hunk — AKA, he we going to throw up and everyone was going to groan in unison.

Luckily, Lance managed to reign in his urge to hurl, realizing it was imperative that he appear cool, casual, and attractive now more than ever. After all, Keith liked him. KEITH. He liked _Lance_!

Keith’s cheeks were pink and he was clearly also trying to ignore the clamoring of everyone else in the room, shouting at each other or possibly at the two of them.

“All right,” Lance said, completely composed, completely put-together. “All right. Cool. Coooooooool. cool.” Keith was nodding, clearly in agreement. Lance wanted to escape the room, but he wanted to pull Keith with him. Using their magnetic energies.

Keith liked Lance. That was now a known fact. But what do you say to people that like you???

Lance didn’t really know. Contrary to popular belief, he’d actually dated exactly zero people, so this was new to him. He figured he’d just take a wild shot in the dark.

Lance cleared his throat. He shot Keith a pair of finger guns. “How you doin’?”

Keith groaned, burying his face in his hands. However, he didn’t punch Lance in the face, so that probably meant Lance’s seduction skills were working.

At some point, their friends had started chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS,” but like, Lance wasn't about to do that in front of an audience.

And so Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and dragged him out of the room. Their friends started booing them, obviously all major perverts in need of a show, but Lance just flicked them off and continued on his way.

Far enough away from their horrible friends, Lance stopped and pressed Keith against a wall. Lance, unable to help it, felt his smile burst forth.

“You liiiiiiike me,” he sang, and Keith scoffed, reaching out to shove him. Lance caught Keith’s hand and pulled him after Lance, catching him up against his body and tilting his head down into his personal space.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Lance said, and Keith groaned, possibly regretting having a crush on Lance, but it was too late. No take backsies.

Lance leaned down and kissed him, and the rest was history. Or actually, it was kind of the future. Either way, it wasn’t explained here. The end.


End file.
